


Firewalker

by woollen_pharaohs



Category: Daredevil (TV), Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: AU, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Established Relationship, Fanart, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Oneshot, Pacific Rim AU, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 11:22:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6468253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woollen_pharaohs/pseuds/woollen_pharaohs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daredevil Pacific Rim AU in which Matt and Foggy request to take the portable Pons helmets (drift device) home with them to experiment... </p><p>(P.s. it's basically a porno ok)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firewalker

**Author's Note:**

> Written because there is no dedicated Daredevil/Pacific Rim AU so ofc I HAD to write it, because you know, I have nothing better to do with my time than write yet another porno. 
> 
> warning because it's fairly raw. i haven't had it beta read and probably won't unless someone wants to do it. Anyway, hope you guys like it :)

“You cannot _give it away_ , Dr. Geiszler, it is a very _dangerous_ piece of technology!” Hermann shouts, his lips quivering over each syllable.

“It’s for science!” Newt responds. He clutches the Pons helmets in his hands and shakes them for emphasis, the wires swinging wildly.

Hermann’s already pink face turns redder and he’s about to blow up before Newt waves his mouth shut.

“Sh, sh, I wanna listen to this broadcast,” he shrieks.

He punches the volume button on the remote as high as it can go to drown out Hermann’s grumblings. Static applauds fill the lab as the audience welcomes the pilots of the jaeger Justice Hellfire to the stage. The interviewer shakes the hands of both Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson before they take their seats.

“What a pleasure to finally have you on our show!” the interviewer grins, leaning over to shake their hands again.

“The pleasure is ours,” Matt replies warmly.

“Just look at that face, you’re denying a bunch of wires to that guy?” Newt says pointing at the screen.

Hermann makes to reply but Newt pointedly turns the volume up again. He leans against his desk as he watches the interview.

“Once the news broke out that you two accepted to make a television appearance, our Questions inbox filled up in record timing.”

“We’ll try and be quick then,” Foggy says.

“Alright, Matthew, you previously fought with Elektra Natchios in Justice Visual. Unfortunately co-pilots die in the battlefield, and in Elektra’s case, off the battlefield, but this is the first time in history the Jaeger name has changed because of acquiring a new co-pilot. You even had new Drivesuits designed which reflect the Daredevil persona.”

A short clip plays showing off the Jaeger in their most recent battle, then rolls through a quick exhibition of the new design of the Drivesuits. Rock music plays to the clip, and ends on a guitar solo, showing the two pilots seated on the red couch.

The interviewer continues, “Our first question is in regards to the name change – who decided on the change from Justice Visual to Hellfire Justice?”

A small smile creeps over Matt’s face, and Foggy responds to the question, “Do you really have to ask?”

“Foggy wanted something badass,” Matt explains.

“It’s definitely badass. I bet you guys have a badass playlist that you play inside the Jaeger too. Oh don’t answer that, I bet that’s someone’s question in here,” the interviewer blushes as she grips the pile of question cards. “So, next question. This one is for Matthew. After revealing yourself as the vigilante hero Daredevil, could you talk about your fight within yourself? Both of your roles involve fighting, as Daredevil and as the pilot of a jaeger, but the Devil never kills. Could you please shed light on your approach and your mindset when battling Kaiju offshore versus fighting crime on the streets?”

Foggy whistles, “straight to the heavy ones huh?”

“Yes, it’s an interesting question…” Matt begins.

Before Newt can hear Matt’s answer, Hermann whacks his walking cane strategically against the TV and bumps the power switch off.

“Hermann! What the hell?” Newt shouts.

“You must _not_ let them take the Pons home with them, Dr. Geiszler.” Hermann insists, dropping his cane against the marble floor with a loud bang.

“I’m gonna,” Newt replies, wide eyed.

“You are _not_.”

“I am.”

Hermann blinks for a second, amazed by Newt’s stubbornness. “If they require it, you must tell them to come to the lab. We can _safely_ run whatever tests they would like to here with _close_ monitoring.”

“We can’t do that! They need _privacy_!” Newt squeaks.

Hermann throws his arms in the air wildly, “what on _Earth_ are they planning on doing with it?”

Newt quirks an eyebrow, “I think you know, Herm.”

“Enlighten me, Newt.”

Newt grins as he starts to place the Pons into a cardboard box. “I love it when you use my first name.”

Hermann’s mouth turns O-shaped, “you said it was for science,” he shuffles over to Newt and places one hand on the rim of the box, “you _said_ it was for _science_.”

Newt scoops Hermann’s hand off the box so he can close it shut, then gives his companion a cheeky smile, “I meant it’s for _love_.”

Hermann stammers, blushing, “w-well you should have s-said that in the _first_ place.”

 

*

 

There’s a knock on their door and Foggy leaps off the bed, skids down the hall and opens the front door in a gust of wind. He signs for the package, then kicks the door shut. As he trots back down the hall he can see Matt sitting up in bed, the bed sheets shifting down Matt’s chest. Foggy swallows. He used to have to control his desire for Matt, but ever since testing their first neural handshake, all secrets, all fears, all concerns about protection and love and safety have all come out in the open. Foggy no longer has to worry about the way he interacts with Matt, because in that cockpit he can feel the extent of Matt's love for him.

Sure, he still worries about Matt. There was a time after Elektra was killed where Matt was completely hopeless. He hadn’t been able to save her. He’d questioned whether what he did on the streets was any good for anyone. And on top of that, he’d lost his co-pilot. Mako had swiftly prepared a list of potential candidates for Matt to test with, but that hadn’t consoled Matt. It was only when Foggy had insisted on Pentecost letting him drift with his friend which helped pull Matt out of his depression. He wasn’t on Mako’s list because he wasn’t much of a fighter, but afterwards, Mako had said that Foggy and Matt’s neural handshake was stronger and more secure than Matt and Elektra’s.

That didn’t mean it was an easy ride. It was in that first drift that Foggy felt Matt’s immense pain. Shared the load with him. Foggy felt Matt’s despair about losing Elektra on that rooftop. His regret that if he had to lose her, it wasn’t in the cockpit where he could have been with her to the very end and heard her very last thoughts. Foggy had to remind Matt that Raleigh suffered years of trauma and neural scarring from solo-piloting, only to learn that Matt felt like he deserved that consequence.

When Foggy drifts with Matt, it’s a sort of therapy. Their trust runs so deep, despite the bumps in their relationship prior to drifting together. Drifting allows Foggy to remind Matt that he does not need to punish himself, that he is worthy of love, that he is loved.

“Stop staring at my abs and come to bed,” Matt calls out.

Foggy obliges and trots back into the bedroom. He places the box on the floor and starts opening it up. Inside is the two helmets encircled by coils and coils of wires. On top sits a crumpled piece of paper which Foggy unfolds. It’s a cryptic diagram signed by Newt, which is meant to indicate which wires go where.

“This might take a while,” Foggy mumbles as he pulls out the helmets and stretches them as far apart as they can go, “and we’ll probably have to get undressed first. These things don’t give much.”

Matt slips his hands around Foggy’s waist and says, “I can help with that,” as he pulls Foggy up on the bed beside him.

Foggy can’t wipe a silly grin off his face as Matt trails his hands up Foggy’s chest to the nape of his neck. Outside of the cockpit, his co-pilot doesn’t know the meaning of hands off. Matt uses his finger placement to guide his lips to Foggy’s neck, and presses kisses across hot skin as he works on unbuttoning Foggy’s dress shirt. Foggy leans into Matt’s lips, runs his hands over bare shoulders, combing his fingers through thick hair. They’d promised not to get into anything before trying out the Pons together, but Foggy’s willing to take it slow.

The buttons of his shirt come loose and Matt carefully pulls it off, folding the fabric and tugging gently where the sleeves bunch. Matt picks at the hem of Foggy’s singlet and tugs it off too, then lays his co-pilot down on the mattress. Foggy watches with a smug look on his face as Matt climbs over his body, watches the way Matt’s mouth is already panting in want, already slick and wet. A shiver goes down Foggy’s back as Matt kisses him again. Deft hands work on shucking off Foggy’s trousers. Foggy thinks he should probably be trying to undress Matt too but he’s already halfway there only being in his boxers, and Matt’s so good at kissing that it kind of makes it hard for Foggy to contemplate doing two things at once.

Matt makes a frustrated noise and breaks from their kiss. He shuffles down the bed, carefully tugging off Foggy’s pants. He hooks the leg holes underneath Foggy’s heels, gently pulling at the fabric. In a way Foggy wishes Matt would just rip his clothes off. Matt knows this, he’s heard all of Foggy’s deepest desires, but on the other hand, in this focused state, Matt’s gentleness reflects his care towards his boyfriend. The way Matt touches Foggy tells him much Matt cares about Foggy, how much he knows that despite having their minds melded at least twice a week, Matt reveres Foggy as precious. Maybe he should find that annoying but to Foggy it serves as validation that he is as valued and loved by Matt as he values and loves in return.

After neatly folding Foggy’s clothes into a pile, Matt runs his palms along Foggy’s side, using him as a guide to clamber back onto the bed. He presses kisses over Foggy’s thigh, hooks his thumbs beneath Foggy’s waistband and playfully tugs at the elastic. Foggy sits up to reach a hand out to Matt’s jaw, pulls him up for a kiss. Matt lets go of the elastic, letting it snap against Foggy’s skin. He frowns in apology, rubbing his thumbs in circles around the affected area but Foggy insists on kissing Matt, letting him know with his tongue, wordless, that it’s alright, that he’s not hurt.

Foggy rakes his hands over Matt’s bare back, threading his fingers beneath Matt’s boxers and giving his ass a squeeze. He supposes that when it comes to him touching Matt, he’s going to be unapologetically greedy. He’ll get what he can, carve out what he missed all these years being by Matt’s side, but not _with_ Matt. His partner tentatively slips a hand beneath Foggy’s waistband again, taking hold of Foggy’s boner. Foggy moans into Matt’s mouth, arching his back and curling his lower back into Matt’s touch. Matt grins into their kiss, which alerts Foggy to their situation.

He breaks from the kiss and tries to make a distraction by sliding Matt’s boxers off. This prompts Matt to tug them off and chuck them away somewhere in the corner of the room. While Matt is distracted with that, Foggy pulls off his own underpants but sits up, wanting to save the fun stuff for their drift. He scoots to the edge of the bed and starts pulling out the Pons helmets, only to be greeted by his partner sliding around behind him, Matt’s hard dick flush against his back.

Foggy chuckles, “hold tight buddy, I have to work out where all these pads go.”

He glances over at the crudely drawn diagram, identifying which head piece is his and which is Matt’s. Normally there isn’t a difference between the two helmets but Foggy had put in a special modification request for Newt to install. He pushes off the bed to stand up, relishing the feel of Matt’s skin peeling off him, palms and thighs and his dick.

“Just stay put while I figure this out,” Foggy instructs.

Matt nods, a hint of displeasure in his pouted lips. Foggy carefully lifts Matt’s head piece in the air, wires swinging out at all possible angles. He secures it on Matt’s head, then adjusts the strap. He steals a chaste kiss, then proceeds to apply the gel to the areas which require the circle pads. Before he applies the cool gel, he gives each spot a quick kiss for luck, kissing Matt’s temples, the edge  of his hairline perpendicular to his eyes, his shoulder caps, and his heart. He then hoists his helmet over his head and secures the strap.

“Can I help?” Matt asks, his hair falling over his eyes.

Foggy smiles, heat coiling in his belly. He nods, then straddles Matt’s lap. He grasps Matt’s right hand and assigns a wire connected to a pad to his boyfriend’s fingers. He then guides Matt to each spot identical to the layout on Matt’s body. Before Foggy applies the gel, Matt insists on kissing Foggy’s skin, just as Foggy did for Matt. Matt’s lips linger over each spot, hot breaths skating over his skin in hot juxtaposition against the cool gel.

After applying the last pad over his heart, Matt catches Foggy’s hand and presses a kiss on the top of his hand. He drags his lips over Foggy’s forefinger, licking it with his plump tongue, then sucks on it. Foggy gasps, involuntarily rolling his hips into Matt’s lap. He can feel Matt’s smile around his finger and he leans forward to press the foreheads together, only to be bumped back by the metal cage around their heads.

He laughs, then speaks with Matt’s finger lurking around his lips, “this is going to be more awkward than I anticipated.”

Matt curls his hands around Foggy’s ass as he pulls his co-pilot in closer, kissing around the circumference of the wire pad. He whispers hoarsely, “let’s get this thing turned on.”

The Pons system in this portable state is powered by their brainwaves, with more hardware on the helmet frame than on the neck and back area. In order for it to power up, a switch needs to be activated along the wire strung between the two helmets. Foggy lays his thumb across the switch, his other hand gripping onto Matt’s shoulder to steady him.

“Initiating neural handshake,” Foggy announces, “in three, two, _one_.”

Instantly Foggy takes in so much. All five senses multiplied by two, and not even minus one thanks to the installation of a camera by Newt. It’s all too much to process until the blue haze signifying their melding minds passes. Until then, it’s memories and historic thoughts and emotions. Every single time he drifts with Matt he relives his most potent memories. Going blind. Discovering his Dad shot dead in the alley. First recruitment by Stick and consequent abandonment. Meeting Foggy on his first day of college. That’s one Foggy can deal with. Not long after that it’s Elektra. The man who killed his father tied up in a chair in Elektra’s home. Then it’s starting Nelson & Murdock. Matt no longer being able to put up with cries for help, and finally doing something about it. That first hand of justice dealt.

Daredevil rose in Hell’s Kitchen just when the city needed him. Kaijus were rising from the ocean, laying waste to anything that got in their way. Out of the rubble, crime gangs thrived, flooded through the streets as easily as kaiju blue. Daredevil helped protect the people who had nothing left, who were fighting to survive in a world collapsing around them. At the same time, the Jaeger program was proving successful. And more pilots were being scouted. Matt was recruited due to ties with his boxer father, and was matched to Elektra, much to his surprise. Despite their past, they trusted each other. Matt trusted Elektra enough to let her join his vigilante activities. Foggy’s honestly jealous about it, on top of being hurt that Matt wasn’t as honest with him as he could have been. Matt knows that. He’s repenting for it still, daily, not that Foggy asks him to, but in the drift Foggy can tell Matt’s trying to repair the damage that he’s done.

Foggy lives through Matt struggling with keeping his lives and identities separate. He relives the day Matt forced him to dissolve their practice. That didn’t mean the end of their friendship. On Matt’s side of the drift, he sees how Foggy suffered during that period. Matt regrets, feels remorse, but Foggy understands it couldn’t have gone another way. Not long after, one of the strongest of Matt’s memories burns a dark blue. Elektra dying in Matt’s arms.  The regret and doubt that followed. Thoughts of how Matt had pushed away everyone he loved, how he got his girlfriend and co-pilot killed, how he hadn’t been truthful with Foggy who loves him, who has always loved him. It was that endless love Foggy had for Matt which saved them both in the end.

The blue stream finally catches up with present day, exploding data around the two men, naked in their bedroom. Through Matt’s camera lens and simultaneously through Foggy’s eyes, they see the warm yellow light filtering in from the billboards outside the apartment. As they adjust to the faux daylight, Foggy can feel Matt crying with happiness. Sight tangible, his beloved seated in his lap.

No words are required, only the honest, heartfelt thoughts generated in each other’s minds. Matt lifts Foggy onto the bed and sprawls him out, as per a line of thought. Foggy feels Matt kiss down his neck, can feel it through his own skin, through Matt’s lips. The line between them tugs, so he coaxes Matt up for a kiss, tilting his head to the side to prevent the helmets from clashing. He tastes what Matt tastes, which is weird, but Foggy puts the weirdness out of mind when Matt’s enjoying it so much. He’s crying still, his tears trickling into Foggy’s mouth as they kiss. Matt apologises but it’s nothing, it’s really nothing when Matt can see the kind of effect he has over Foggy.

Perhaps the strangest part about drifting with Matt is acquiring his echo location. If Matt can’t get over being able to see, Foggy can’t get over being able to hear even the most minute movements. The patter of rain outside of their apartment, to the light swaying of cobwebs dangling in the corner of the ceiling, down to the sound of the sheets rustling with every movement, the almost sickly throb of their hearts pumping blood through their bodies. To think that Matt hears like this on a regular basis. To think that Foggy sees so much colour on a regular basis.

Foggy kisses Matt, runs his hands over his co-pilot’s back, over his waist, skating over tight skin around his abdomen. Matt’s still hard, hell, they’re both still hard. But Foggy hears Matt’s worry about feeling too much, coming too soon.

Matt takes Foggy’s lip in his teeth and worries it gently, _I’m sorry, I know you like it fast_.

 _Hey, don’t worry about me, we’ll slow down when you need to_ , Foggy thinks to reassure Matt.

Matt presses his lips against Foggy’s, threads his hand down between their wires to Foggy’s alert dick. He spreads his fingers wide over Foggy’s base, then swirls his touch around Foggy’s cock, gently pulling the foreskin down to allow access to the head. Pearls of cum bead at the head, mirroring Matt’s. Foggy bucks into Matt’s touch, eager for more, to be covered in Matt, to be all around him, within him, together, at once.

Through Matt, Foggy hears the slick sound of his sweaty skin responding to Matt’s touch. He hears Matt’s heart beat rapid for him, smells the wanting, tastes the way Matt tenses to keep himself still, his senses all confused but functioning better than before. He knows they’re both ready to go to the next step, and they both realize there’s only so far they can move apart with the helmets attached. They move together to scoot up the bed to reach the bedside table. Matt pulls out the lube and condoms and it’s a dull rip of aluminium, a hollow unwinding of latex, sheathing. The short high pitched squeak of the lube lid popping, slurping liquid guzzling out in a shoot, slapping the liquid against skin, spreading, lathering. That’s the sound of foreplay for Matt. Plastics and heavy breathing and skin slipping against skin and more needy panting. For Foggy it’s usually those sounds but far quieter. Now they’re amplified, and for Matt, he can see the bright green of the lube container laying against their white sheets. He can see the black condom wrapper flitting through the air, the yellow light bouncing off the aluminium. The translucent pearl of lube in the palm of Foggy’s right hand, pink chubby fingers connecting to his dainty wrist, to his arms, stronger now than they were a few months ago.

Matt cries still. He can’t help it. He can see. He can see Foggy, his love, his world, spread out beneath him, hot and flushed for him.

_You’re beautiful._

_I love you._

Foggy’s long hair curls around his neck, blonde, like the sand of beaches Matt’s seen but never up close, never as beautiful. Eyes the colour of kaiju blue, the acid strong enough to burn away his vision like it did decades ago, but Foggy looks at him with the opposite. With gentleness, with kindness and compassion and _stop thinking you don’t deserve this, Matt, you deserve happiness_.

Foggy cups the dollop of lube in his hand and snakes it between Matt’s thighs, carefully spreads the lube around the periphery of Matt’s hole. He feels what he does to Matt, feels Matt’s ass muscles clench around Foggy’s touch. He slips a lube lathered finger into Matt’s hole and feels a ghost finger in his own hole, a mirror.

Foggy moans, wishing for Matt to kiss him and being rewarded with the very gift. Being connected to Matt in this way makes him feel stronger, maybe because Matt sees the strength in him, highlights it, as Foggy highlights Matt’s worthiness. Empowered by Matt, Foggy works on widening Matt’s hole, kissing his lover tenderly, exploring mouths with tongues so deeply it becomes unnecessary to register whose tongue is in whose mouth, so long as they’re connected.

The room temperature seems to have risen about fifty degrees, from a 68 to 110, _at least_. Foggy’s eardrums are filled with sounds of his finger slipping in and out of Matt’s hole, of each other’s panting breaths, of their hearts beating in anticipated timing. Matt grips Foggy’s dick, positions himself, then pushes down, thrusting Foggy’s dick inside his hole. He can hear skin tearing, too soon, too eager, but at the same time, Matt’s pleasured cry sparking into Foggy’s mouth.

“I thought you wanted to go slow!” Foggy squeaks.

Matt laughs deeply into Foggy’s throat in response, pressing his hips down to completely take in Foggy’s cock. Foggy moans this time, hitching his own hips just slightly to close the gap, then throws his head back in the pillows when Matt arches upward, dragging up his dick. Matt purposefully teases him, clenching his muscles around the tip of Foggy’s cock, then slowly making his descent. Foggy claws into Matt’s shoulders, breaking away from their kiss to take in a much needed deep breath. He hooks his chin over Matt’s shoulder, spreading his fingers over the back of Matt’s neck, seeing Matt look with desire laced on his lips at Foggy’s jawline, at the corner of skin curving into Foggy’s earlobe.

In the drift Foggy doesn’t have to be able to heard Matt’s heartbeat to know what he’s going to do next. He watches through Matt as he goes to nibble Foggy’s ear, nudges against his helmet to lie back again, join lips, share breaths. Matt lifts off Foggy’s dick again, presses slowly down, repeats the process. Foggy can tell Matt wants to be touched too, feels the strain in Matt’s dick, the hot twitching, but it would be too much. For now it’s good enough to have that ghost effect of feeling Foggy’s dick sliding into him reflecting in his dick pushing into his partner. Matt continues his sheathing, unsheathing, his back shivering in response, skeleton shuddering, lips quivering against Foggy’s, in pain, in pleasure, in love.

They’ve drifted before in their Jaeger countless times before, experienced each other’s fear and bravery and happiness at each successful battle. Foggy had imagined having sex during the drift would be cool, but he had no idea just how unreal the whole experience would feel like. If he could, he would do this forever. A drift/sex addiction, lost in each other’s thoughts both past and current and feeling everything, _everything_.

Matt’s cheeks are flushed as red as their Drivesuits, ditto for Foggy, and finally Foggy can’t hold back from getting Matt off too. He moves one hand from Matt’s waist to his abdomen, clutches his base and lets his other hand trail to Matt’s balls. He fondles them softly, pumping Matt’s dick in time with Matt’s rise and fall. He coaxes a building of speed by motioning slightly faster, moving his hips encouragingly, getting Matt to breathe faster, grind harder. He feels Matt starting to panic, knowing that they’re going too fast, that he won’t be able to last much longer. But he shouldn’t have to worry because Foggy’s just the same. On the brink of the rift, time and space and another dimension, Matt takes in Foggy’s dick with aimed precision, hitting his sweet spot. Foggy anticipates this move, flicks his thumb across the head of Matt’s dick just the way he likes it, fisting downwards like a corkscrew and with both perfectly timed manoeuvres, the two pilots come.

There is an unbearable few second where Matt can’t see. Blank. Searing white like a burn, but which dissolves quickly, revealing the static vision through Matt’s camera lens. They ride out the tide together, shuddering and panting and clawing at each other, their ejaculations coming in synchronised waves. After they’re completely spent, it’s like all of their energy has been syphoned out of them. Matt reluctantly lifts off Foggy, but lies down next to his partner with a grin stretched wide across his face. They stare at each other for what feels like hours, sinking into their damp sheets. In time the whiteness turns to foam and they’re spread out into the body of an ocean. The afterglow warm like the water currents, their joy the endless depths of the sea.

“I never want to take this off,” Matt murmurs after thinking it a thousand times over.

“Maybe this can be our gimmick,” Foggy laughs, entertaining the idea of going about the rest of his life connected to Matt in this way.

Then, Matt says, “all I want to see for the rest of my life is you.”

Foggy stares at him then, feels the intensity shared between them, and the pure honesty too.

“We’ll have to work something out with the Docs… but first, I think we should continue our tests…”

He winks and pulls Matt in for a kiss, only to be bumped back by the helmet.

 _I knew that was going to happen_ , Matt thinks.

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” Foggy grunts, rubbing the spot where the frame hit his forehead.

Matt tilts his head to give Foggy a pain free peck on the lips, then says, “because I knew it was going to be cute.”

 

*

 

Bonus fanart by[Captainreverie](http://captainreverie.tumblr.com/post/142164844552/when-your-fanfic-writer-mate-wakes-up-with-an)because i spammed her about the idea for this fic at a ridiculous time and she rewarded me with this divine drawing! (Also thanks so much for helping me pick a name for their Jaeger!)


End file.
